I Will Always Love You
by Trini08
Summary: My version of how I feel the season finale/season premire should go. Michael!whump, Mike/Fi
1. Fiona POV: Explosion

_Here's my idea on who the season finale/season premire should go. I want Campbell gone, and I want Fi back with Mike, as obvious in this past ep, she still cares alot about him, the way she hugged him after the car accident.. This story is definately Mike/Fi and definately Michael!whump.

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Ring, ring.

I picked up my phone and sighed. Michael, again. And I was just getting ready for my date with Campbell

"Michael, what do you want, I'm busy." I say, exasperated. _Always ruining my dates._

"Fi, I need your help. Carla knew I was in that office, she knows that I know something about her plan." I hear Michael's voice over the phone and he sounds fatigued, like he's been running.

"But how?" I reply, stilling my preparations. If Carla knows, then we're all in danger.

"I don't know." He responds, his voice quiet. _He must be at the loft then._ "She's always one step ahead of us."

There's a long pause, and I can hear Michael's steps on the metal steps leading to the loft.

"Michael, what's going on?"

"Shhh." He hushes me from the other side of the line. I wait anxiously as I strain to hear his moves. The creaking of his front door, him cocking his gun. But no steps on the wooden floor.

"Michael?" I whisper.

"She's been here, something's off." He says quietly, but quickly. I can hear him back tracking, stepping back onto the metal steps. "I need you to meet me at…."

**BOOM**

I hear a loud explosion and I'm in a sudden panic. So many questions run through my head in a mere second. Was it the loft or the car the exploded? Was Michael close to the explosion?

"Michael!" I scream into the phone, but there's no answer. "Michael!"

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_Hope you liked it, please review. i know its short, but it should be several chapters long._


	2. Michael POV: Explosion

_Here's my new chapter. Michael's POV this time. Still working on whether to do 2 Fi chapters next or just one big one. U'll see when i post it i guess. Hope you like it._

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I'd parked the Charger far enough away from the loft so that anyone who might have been tailing it couldn't follow me all the way home. This entire thing with breaking into Carla's "office" I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Getting in there, getting those files, it was too easy. I start to head up the stairs, but stop when I see something fluttering in the wind a few steps ahead of me. It's a newspaper, turned to the crossword page. _Shit._

I grab my phone and call Fiona as I look over the page. There's nothing on it, not marks at all, just a blank crossword. This isn't good.

"Michael, what do you want, I'm busy." I hear Fi say over the phone. She sounds upset, but right now I don't care, something's wrong.

"Fi, I need your help. Carla knew I was in that office, she knows that I know something about her plan." I tell her, continuing up the stairs. The door doesn't look tampered with from here. I'm out of breath from both walking back here and from the fact that I know something's wrong.

"But how?" She asks.

"I don't know." I tell her, keeping my voice low so that anyone who may be inside can't hear me. "She's always one step ahead of us."

And its true, she always is. She knows when I have Sam and Fi there for backup, knows when I've done anything counteractive to her little plan. I hate to admit it, but she scares me. I reach the top of the stairs and open the door. I pull out the gun I have tucked into my jeans and glance around my loft looking for evidence that someone's been in it, that someone's been looking for something.

"Michael?" I hear Fi whisper through the phone. I shush her and continue to look, nothing seems out of place. But it's all too clean, like they tore it apart looking then tried to put it back together.

"She's been here, something's off." I tell her. I retreat back out of the loft and start to head back to the stairs. I need to get out of here. "I need you to meet me at…."

**BOOM**

I feel the heat of my loft exploding as I'm thrown into the air. It burns the skin on my right arm, but its nothing compared to the pain I feel when I land on my back on the concrete below. Two stories below. The pain in unbearable, and I usually have a rather high pain tolerance but I can feel my self blacking out from the intensity. The last thing I hear is Fiona's voice coming from the phone that's fallen somewhere near me, calling my name.

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_Hope you liked it, stay tuned for more to come soon. please r&r, thanks_


	3. Fiona POV: Help

**_Heres the next cahpter. sorry it took so long. i got a job, had to work everyday. Plus when i started this chapter i orignially had them sending Michael to the hospital, which, as was pointed out by my mother, was a bad idea becuase then they would hunt him down again and try to kill him. So enjoy._**

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I stand in my bedroom for what feels like an eternity, half done up for my date. I'm in shock, for all I know I just listened as someone killed Michael. Once I get a hold of the mixed emotions brewing in me, I look at my phone. The call to Michael's been disconnected, so I quickly dial Campbell's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"Campbell, I need you to meet me at Michaels loft, he needs your help." I blurt out quickly. The sooner we can get there the sooner I'll know that Michael's ok. Damn that man for being a magnet for trouble.

"Fi, I'm on my way to pick you up, we have a date, remember? Anyway, I thought we agreed I wasn't going to be part of you and Michaels, whatever it is you two do." He tells me, and it's true. I did have to come clean to him about what Michael, Sam and I really do after we involved him in Jeannie's rescue.

"This isn't a job, Campbell. Someone just blew up Michael's loft. He needs your help, fast." I tell him, already half out the door of my apartment, heading for my car. Campbell is silent on the other end of the line, and I'm wondering if I sounded too desperate. If he can hear in my voice that I still care more for Michael then I let on.

"Ok, I'll be there as soon as I can." He finally says and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Campbell, wait!" I yell into the phone, hoping he'll hear me before he hangs up. "Don't call any one; if the people who did this know he's alive they won't stop. They'll find him and kill him. Please, don't call the police."

"Ok" is the only response I get before the line goes dead.

No sooner than we hang up and I'm racing down the streets of Miami, racing towards Michael's loft, hoping that I'm not too late. All I can think about is that day almost a year ago when I was called to the dingy hotel room where the people who burned him had dumped him. I had told him then that I had wanted to be there in his last moments to tell him he was a bastard. It was true at the time, but not anymore.

I arrive at Michael's in record time and before Campbell. I pull on the gates, hoping he hasn't locked them to prevent anyone who followed him from getting in. They open easily and the sight on the other side is shocking. There's glass everywhere, things are on fires, chunks of cement are scattered across the courtyard. It's then that my eyes catch a still human form on the ground. I run to it and see that it's Michael; bruised, bloody and burned. His left side seems to have taken most of the heat of the flames. I reach my hand forward to touch his hair, but pull it back when I feel something wet under my fingers. I look at them and see red blood that Michael's naturally dark hair must have been concealing.

Panic sets in, and I grab Michael's shoulder and squeeze it, calling out his name and being careful not to move him. I'm still not sure where he was standing when the loft exploded, but he has a head injury so it must have been close to it, possibly up on the stairs.

"mmmmh….." I hear Michael mumble.

"Michael, can you hear me?" I ask him, hoping for some kind of response.

"Fi…" He responds breathlessly. He doesn't open his eyes, although he attempts to turn his head to my voice.

"Don't move Michael." I scold him, but still soften my grip on his shoulder. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Help is coming. Just stay still, ok?" I tell him, only I'm not sure if I'm trying to reassure him or myself.

Campbell arrives shortly after me, alone, just like I asked him to. He reaches for me first, but I deflect his attention to Michael, telling him I wasn't here during the explosion, only after. Campbell kneels beside Michael, assessing his injuries.

"He needs a hospital Fiona." Campbell tells me, but I shake my head and refuse.

"They'll be looking for him there. If they find out he survived the explosion, they'll look for him and kill him." I insist refusing to move from my spot at Michael's side. It suddenly hits me that Sam doesn't know yet, and even more importantly, neither does Madeline. I reach into my pockets for my phone, but its not there.

"What's wrong?" Campbell asks, noting my sudden movement.

"I don't have my cell; I need to call his mom and Sam. They need to know." I blurt out quickly, searching my pockets for a fifth time. I look up and he's holding out his, so I grab it and start dialing.

I call Madeline first, she's his mother, and she deserves the first call.

"Hello?" She answers. I can feel myself shaking; I shouldn't be the one who has to tell her that her son may be dying.

"Madeline…" I manage to say, but my voice is trembling and I can't get past that one word.

"Fiona? What's wrong? Where's Michael?"

"There's….There's been an explosion. Michael……he's hurt." Is all I can say before I start sobbing silently.

"What! Where? Fiona, where is he?"

"At the loft." I tell her, but it comes out more like a whisper, like I'm too scared to say it. "Carla blew up his loft. She tried to kill him."

"Oh God! Is he at the hospital?" She asks me.

"No, we can't risk it. I'm going to bring him to Sam's new apartment." I tell her, coming up with the plan quickly, because I can hear sirens heading for us. Someone definitely would have heard the explosion.

"Meet us there." I tell her before I hang up. "We need to move him, now!" I shout to Campbell who is still working on Michael.

"Move him! He has a head injury! We can't just move him!" He yells back.

I grab Michael under the arms as I tell Campbell that I'll move him myself, I've done it before. He grabs Michael's feet and helps me get him into my car. I call Sam to let him know we're on our way and what happened, all the while praying that this is the right thing to do.


End file.
